What Happens In Hell
by SparkledDreams
Summary: Convicted of murdering Quirinus Quirrell at age elven, Harry Potter is sent to Azkaban, placed coincidentally in the cell beside his godfather, Sirius Black. Now, three years later, Harry and Sirius are breaking out, and it's time for revenge on Wormtail, reunion with Moony, Ron, and Hermione as the Ministry tears apart the Wizarding World to find the two top criminals.
1. Chapter One: Azkaban

**Author's Note: **I read a really good story on here a few minutes ago, and died inside. NO SEQUEL! I know my updates are as often as hell freezing over, but with this, I feel good and not bored with it.

Anyways, I really don't want to spoil the amazing story with trying to base this story off that, but it's just stuck in my head. Apologies if this resembles any other story you've read.

**Disclaimer: **I promise I don't own anything written here, except for any personalities, characters, or extra details that I create. I own my plot, but I might copy some of the personality traits from the previously mentioned story. The only thing that doesn't belong to me or JK Rowling is Harry's Animagus form, which came from the really good story I just read.

What Happens In Hell

Chapter One: Azkaban

"Kiddo, you awake? Please don't have died during the night, you'll stink up the place."

Harry Potter pulled himself from his mattress, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. "Bugger," Harry called back. His godfather looked mock offended. He placed a hand over his heart. Cue pained expression.

"You wound me, Harry," Sirius breathed dramatically. "Uh, no. You're the one who plays with the sharp things you find in your cell," Harry replied, grinning a weak smile through the bars that separated the two.

Placed in Azkaban for the murder of Quirinus Quirrell in Harry's first year at Hogwarts, the boy was turning fourteen in a week and a half, and supposed to be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts just as soon. Just like Sirius, Harry never received a trial, and he could thank Fudge for that one.

Fortunately and unfortunately, depending on the perspective, Harry was placed in the next to his godfather. Fortunate because Harry gained the first person to ever love him that he remembered, and unfortunate because it meant the Dementors could torment him. This was something they did often, feeding off his abundant bad memories.

"You know, they help when you've got a terrible itch just below your shoulder blade, or when fighting off a bloodsucking leech," Sirius commented offhandedly. Harry leaned his thin frame against the wall of his cell.

"And you would know this from firsthand experience?"

"Don't ask."

Sirius studied Harry. When he'd first been dumped in the cell, the boy, obviously malnourished and small, had only been ten or fifteen pounds underweight. Now, three years later, Harry was thin as could be, like paper. Dark, almost black, bruises rested permanently beneath his eyes. His skin, almost translucent, was pale enough to be albino. Harry may have grown a few inches since he was eleven, but being nearly fourteen, he shouldn't have been about 5'4.

Then again, Sirius wasn't the loveliest rose in the garden either. Same bruises, same weight loss, same complexion-same torture. Sirius wished Harry had never been dumped here, for three years no less. He could see it was beginning to depress him.

"You can always turn into Winglet," Sirius suggested, referring to the obvious pain from the Dementors. Sirius had taught Harry how to become an Animagus to help with the effects of the Dementors the moment Harry trusted Sirius. It had taken a while, and finally, Harry transformed into a small but tough light brown bird. Sirius had instantly given Harry the nickname Winglet, and it irritated Harry to no end.

"I could, but that leaves the ability to tease you out, so I'll endure it," Harry answered jokingly. Sirius knew he was putting on his usual front to keep his godfather from worrying.

Despite years of abuse from the Dursleys, Harry had a pure gold heart that stretched a million times around the planet. He was thoughtful and loving, and as loyal as his godfather. Sirius was surprised his godson's Animagus form wasn't a dog.

"Hey, watch it. I've taken time out of my extremely busy schedule to teach your sorry arse how to protect itself," Sirius retorted. The thing with Sirius and Harry was that they could insult each other loads, and in the end, they'd love each other even more unconditionally. Most of the time, the pair laughed together, while trying to ignore the injustice being inflicted upon them. At night, Harry would wonder what had become of his best friends, Ron and Hermione, while Sirius thought of his only remaining best friend, Remus Lupin, that currently believed him to be guilty. Life never treated Harry or Sirius properly.

"You mean the busy schedule that consists of taunting Bella?"

"You need to learn to stop calling me out on my flaws? I am imperfect, believe it or not."

"Trust me, I know."

"So the puppy's got some bite, huh?"

"I don't know why you insist on calling me a _puppy_ when I'm a very intimidating _bird_."

Sirius burst out laughing. "Please. My mother in her best clothing was scarier than you. You remind me of a baby owl I saw once in a pet shop in Hogsmeade. Just born weeks before. Mother spoke of how disgusting the monstrosities were," Sirius said bitterly, reminiscing on his wretched childhood.

"Sirius?"

"Yep?"

…

"Am I disgusting too?" Harry felt stupid for letting himself sound childish. Sirius could see him berating himself, and soothed him. "Harry, listen to me. You are the opposite of disgusting. The Ministry is disgusting for throwing an eleven-year-old boy in the cell next to supposed mass murderer and across from notorious bitch."

"I heard that, Black!"

"That was the purpose, cousin!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **I apologize that it was so short. It's 1:57 AM and I just wanna go to BED! Enjoy this! Next chapter should be up within the next few days. I don't care who reviews and who doesn't, as long as there are no flames. I've edited this from the original draft, so yeah.

-SparkledDreams


	2. Chapter Two: Preparations

**Author's Note: **In case you didn't notice, I rewrote the first chapter, so go read it again (if you were one of the first five reviewers), or you will be VERY confused as to what goes on from here on in.

**Disclaimer: **I own just my plot, OCs, and personalities. JK Rowling owns the characters and wonderful HP universe.

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What Happens In Hell

Chapter Two: Preparations

A red-haired boy awoke to hushed whispers from the kitchen. Ron Weasley crept out of his room, straining to hear what was being said.

"He was eleven, and is now nearly fourteen! The Ministry plans to release the boy when he comes of age to allow him to fight off You-Know-Who. Do they really expect him to save them when he was imprisoned for getting rid of You-Know-Who when he possessed a teacher?" The disgusted voice was Molly Weasley's, Ron's warm, homely mother. Ron felt his heart crack inside.

His best friend, Harry Potter, had been sent to Azkaban three years ago for defending the Sorcerer's Stone from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The worst was that he couldn't visit him, nor write to him. Hogwarts had never forgotten the hero, and the Gryffindor common room had a portrait of him above the fireplace.

"If he doesn't, they'll send him back to Azkaban, though," another voice sighed. It sounded suspiciously like one of Ron's older brothers, Bill.

"Well, isn't that what they'd do after he defeated him anyways? He's got a life sentence." This voice was definitely Ron's other brother, Charlie. Ron had had enough, and came down the stairs to add his input.

Molly, Charlie, Bill, and Arthur Weasley, his father, were all seated in the kitchen, obviously having an animated discussion. "The Ministry's fooled the Wizarding World into thinking that Harry's guilty. I heard he was put in the cell next to Sirius Black's," Ron told his family. The Weasley matriarch looked upset that he had heard their conversation, but Charlie nodded in agreement.

"Fudge wants everyone to believe that Harry was just an attention-seeking brat, and when the time comes, he'll have been so humbled by Azkaban that he'll _want _to prove to the Wizarding World that he is still a savior." Ron looked thoroughly stricken.

"But everyone who knows Harry knows that he hates attention, and that he's the kindest person ever to exist. Surely no one believes Fudge?" Ron's hopeful voice made Molly want to cry.

"Well, with Fudge and Lucius Malfoy having closed the case years ago, there was never any time for anyone to report disagreement on the subject of Harry's innocence," Arthur explained sorrowfully. The Weasley father had taken a strong liking to the orphan boy, his kind heart and sharp mind attracting Arthur to him immediately. The entire family could only imagine what kind of torture Harry must have, and still, gone through.

_He's always had a way of still being Harry after lots of pain and rejection. After all, growing up with those filthy Muggles must have been difficult. But three years of isolation and torment, and the only company being mass murderers and Death Eaters…Harry can't possibly function correctly, _Ron thought miserably. He wasn't looking forward to another year without his best mate. Even only knowing him for a year, he, Hermione Granger, and Harry had all been as close as family to one another. And that had all been ripped away from them.

* * *

Sirius Black was angry.

He was angry a lot, but was exceptionally talented at hiding it. He was angry at Fudge for imprisoning him unjustly, angry at Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt for not believing the truth, angry at Dumbledore for not defending him. Practically angry at the world.

But now Sirius was angry for a new reason.

He'd heard them before he'd seen them. The Dementors had swept through the corridor early in the morning, and entered his godson's cell with smug airs as they knelt beside Harry, who was still asleep. Sirius shouted for them to stop, but only succeeded in waking Harry up. He had been paralyzed as their strong grip encased him, and all four Dementors began to suck away his happiness. It had never happened before, but Sirius had a feeling they were on orders to torture Harry.

That didn't stop Sirius from clawing at the bars of his cell, trying to reach his godson.

After what seemed like eternity, the Dark creatures glided back out of the prison and to whatever Hell they called home for the time being.

Harry had been knocked unconscious after trying to hold onto it for so long. Sirius fumed at the thought that someone had commanded the prison guards to hurt his godson.

Sirius leaned against the bars separating Harry and himself. He murmured soothing words to Harry, trying to coax him awake.

And finally, after about twenty minutes, he did.

"Hey," Harry croaked, sitting up from his uncomfortable position on the stone floor. Sirius managed a smile. "How ya feeling, Winglet?"

Harry scowled at the name. "Come up with something more original. _Winglet?_ Seriously?" He grumbled, and he held his head tenderly, wishing he could burst into tears. But Sirius was strong, and had endured worse, and so would he.

"Don't be strong for me, kiddo. You can cry in front of me. Just not on me, 'cause we're kinda separated by bars," Sirius joked. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Don't you think I know that by now? I've rolled into them in my sleep on more than one occasion."

"Just trying to be supportive."

"Right, sorry. Prison gets to you like that, huh?"

"Absolutely."

Their absurd conversation was normal to the other inmates. To Sirius' left, hidden by the gray wall that stood between the next two cells, a man named Antonin Dolohov was imprisoned, and his cellmate was Thorfinn Rowle.

This corridor was where the worst criminals were assigned. Harry was on the end, and across from him, Bellatrix Lestrange was as well. There were bars between their "cellmates", and then a heavy stone wall to separate the next two prison cells. Sirius thanked the heavens that Harry had been placed next to him, in cell 485, but was furious he had been placed with the Darkest wizard and witches of all time.

What most people didn't know was that each inmate of the prison was tattooed with their cell number on their neck. Sirius had watched in agony and helplessness as Fudge himself came into Harry's cell a week after he'd been imprisoned and had his assistant Percy Weasley tattoo him. Harry had thrashed and kicked, not knowing how much worse it would get in the next three years. The tattoo was charmed with an Irremovable Charm, marking Harry and Sirius for as long as they existed.

Because they weren't living. They simply were in being, being convicted wrongly for crimes that they didn't commit.

"Keep it quiet, Black! No one wants to hear you and Potter being all lovey-dovey!" Rowle called from his cell.

Sirius threw a stone at the wall, taking satisfaction in the echoing boom it made in the corridor. "Don't push my buttons, Rowle!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, pulling his nearly nonexistent, threadbare blanket over his shivering, stick-like legs. The sheet wasn't large enough to cover his entire body. Sirius pressed his gaunt face into the bars, wincing at the contact of cold metal with his stiff skin.

Sirius couldn't bear it any longer. He could see that his godson was cracking. He himself wasn't faring well. Sirius was going insane, but he knew one thing. They had to break out of Azkaban.

"Harry," Sirius whispered, trying to keep his rough voice low. Harry's eyes snapped to his, too weak to lift his head. "Hmm?"

"We need to get out."

"Huh? Sorry, wasn't focusing." It pained Sirius to know that his godson had to focus to hear something.

"We're breaking out of Azkaban."

"Okay."

This startled the older man. He had been expecting some sort of reaction. Shock, disagreement-even thinking that Sirius was barmy. But not acceptance. Definitely not acceptance.

"What did you say?"

"Okay. Let's do it. After being here so long, I kind of believe in any kind of hope there is to get out."

Sirius took a deep breath. "We transform into Padfoot and Winglet. The Dementors don't notice us in the Animagus forms. Then, we find the sewer, 'cause there's gotta be one somewhere. And we're out."

There was a silence. "Sure," Harry agreed. "Just one tiny problem. See, we're kinda weakened by being here for years, so I don't really know how you expect us to be able to swim outta here, and I doubt I'll be able to fly at all anyways, so…" He trailed off, looking at Sirius with thoughtful eyes.

Sirius grinned. "I've got it covered, Winglet. Get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day."

"Haven't heard that in three years."

"Funny. Haven't heard that in fourteen."

"I'd get used to it if I were you, Siri. Our days will be big from now on."

"Yes, because escaped convicts have the most interesting lives."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know. That was a completely lousy chapter. Unfortunately, I have nothing else to give. Next one will be better, I promise.

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**Reviews:**

_Firestar - _Thank you! The name of the story was "Fugitives of Azkaban." Not sure of the author, can't remember.

_ - _Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it's horrible.

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-SparkledDreams


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